


Comfort through pain

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Breathplay, Dom/sub, F/M, Fluff, Impact Play, Non-Sexual Submission, Not Beta Read, Shibari, Spanking, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 08:54:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19314835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After a rough day, all you want is to come home to Partick, be tied up, called a good girl, and drop into subspace (Good thing you generally get what you want)





	Comfort through pain

**Author's Note:**

> This was lightly inspired after reading "Old Scars/Future Hearts" by Jiksa (Which I highly recommend) 
> 
> If anyone more knowledgeable wants to correct me on something, leave a comment (Be nice please) and I'll be happy to change stuff
> 
> With that out of the way, enjoy :) -Felix
> 
> (Ps, Not Beta'd)

You burst through the door of you and Patrick's house, yanking off your shoes and dropping your bag to the floor. Patrick came around the corner tentatively, slightly shocked at your aggressive behaviour. Your eyes locked, and you launched yourself into his arms, burying your face into his chest and finally letting your tears run free. Patrick's arms carefully wrapped around your figure, and he rocked you side to side slowly. After a few minutes of sobbing into his shirt, you tears subsided into sniffles.

“What happened?” he whispered into your hair, his fingers tracing shapes onto your side and hip.

“Adrian.” You could feel Patrick tense slightly at that before relaxing and shushing your next round of tears. Adrian was your co-worker, and also the worst human being you had met. He constantly made fun of your appearance, job performance, and anything else he could pick at, intentionally spilling stuff on you and generally making your life a living hell. The worst part was that he was your boss’ nephew, and if you ever tried to tell him what Adrian did on a daily basis, you would probably be fired. It wasn’t that money was an issue for the too of you, but a job made you feel more independent, and you would hate to have that taken away from you.

“How can I make it better?” Patrick asked. You loved him so much, and couldn’t imagine your life without him. He cared about you, genuinely, and in a way that you had never felt from any other relationship. He was also the only person who you trusted enough to give over all power to, which currently was the only thing on your mind.

“Could we…” You trailed off, bitting your lip before looking up into his eyes and blushing, “Could we do a scene?” He responded with a soft smile.

“Of course, what were you thinking?” He asked, kissing your forehead and taking your slightly shaky hands into his and rubbing his thumbs on the backs of them.

“I don’t think I want sex, right now at least, but, I uh, I just wanna be really deep in subspace.”

“I can do that for you darling.” he smiled kindly and led you to what you called your game room. When you had moved in together, and this dynamic had evolved, Patrick had paid to turn the extra room at the end of the hall into the perfect room to soothe you into the headspace you often craved.

The door slowly swung open for the two of you to enter, and the familiar plush walls and warm, dim lights greeted you. The entire room was soundproofed and heated to keep you as calm and relaxed as possible. The room wasn’t too big, large enough to fit a bed, a chest with some paddles and floggers in it, a closet in the far wall, some chairs, and a large mirror that currently had a sheet draped over it. Patrick led you over to the bed and instructed you to sit on the edge of it as he explained what he was going to do.

“I'm going to blindfold and restrain you, is that ok?” He checked in before going to the closet to grab some of the required materials. When he turned back, he held a red silk blindfold in one hand, and a few lengths of soft, black rope in his other hand. You peered up at him and nodded as he set them on the bed next to you. His thumb and forefinger going under your chin to lift your head to fully face him.

“Use your words baby girl.” He commanded, his voice lower than usual.

“Yes.” You sighed out contently. Patrick raised an eyebrow at your choice of words and you quickly realized your mistake, changing your phrasing.

“Yes, sir.” You corrected, fidgeting with your hands as his eyes stared into your soul. He removed his hand from your face to turn and walk over to the chest against the wall, opening it and rooting around in it. 

“I’d also like to do some impact play, and if you’re a good girl, we can do some breath play at the end. Does that sound good?”

“Yes, sir.” you agreed as he walked back and set a flogger and two paddles next to you, one of the larger, softer ones, and a smaller more solid one.

“You remember your colours, yes darling? Tell me them”

“Green means go, Yellow means pause or something needs to change, Red means stop.” You recited out. Patrick's hand petted through your hair gently, a soft smile at your obedience gracing his face.

“Undress as much as you want to then go kneel on the floor baby girl.” He directed and stepped back, allowing you to undress to only your panties and bra, then putting a pillow under your knees and crouching down on the carpet at the foot of the bed. Patrick stood up with the blindfold and tied it over your eyes. When one of your senses was taken away you found that all your others were amplified, making anything to transpire much more intense. 

You could hear Patrick shuffling around the room before coming back to you. He crouched down in front of you before gently placing his hands on your thighs. He rubbed his hands gently down your legs, before coming back up to knead the muscles in your back, then your arms. Once he reached your wrists, he wrapped them in the black rope from before, securing them together in front of you. He then moved down to your legs, taking his time tying your calves to your thighs, effectively immobilizing you. The slide of the rope against your skin helped to start your descent into subspace. Once you had been all tied up with intricate knots and designs looping across your legs, Patrick leaned back.

“Colour?”  
“Green, sir” you panted out. Patrick leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your hair, before leaning back and instructing you to match your breathing to his and let go of the negative thoughts from the day. 

Patrick maneuvered you to lie on your stomach and started gently massaging your back, thighs, and butt before explaining what he was about to do.

“You’re going to be spanked twenty-five times, I want you to count for me.” you hummed in approval before being reminded to use your words.

“Yes sir,” you spoke lightly and felt Patrick move you to be leaning over his lap. The first strike was very gentle as to be expected, Patrick's cupped hand landing on your rear as you counted out loud for him. He always started slowly before putting any real strength behind it, and you always appreciated it the next day. The last few were slightly harder, though not enough for any notable amount of pain to follow. After counting out a twenty-five, Patrick's hands returned to massaging your muscles.

“You took those so well baby girl, so well” He praised. “I think we're going to move up one, is that ok darling?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I still want you to count for me. If you lose count I will add five. Colour?”

“Green.” At that, you felt him lean over and grab one of the harder implements you had seen before. For the next minute, he delivers hard, direct pain, getting you to count all 30 of the hard, stinging, delicious afflictions of the paddle. As soon as he finishes, he sets the paddle down and goes back to rubbing your sore muscles and telling you how good you did, how beautiful you look.

This process continues on for about an hour, Patrick escalating the intensity and pain of the implements used, and you can feel yourself slipping farther and farther away. After a particularly hard smack, you breathe out a “Yellow” and Patrick goes back to helping you relax and breathe through the pain until you utter a green again. Patrick rolls you over onto your back and leans close enough that you can feel his breath against your ear.

“I’m going to cut off your air supply for five seconds at a time every ten seconds for a minute. If you need me to stop, squeeze my arm. Colour?”

“Green” you gushed, starting to feel as if you were floating as his hand went around your throat and his other guided your bound hands to hold onto his wrist. Patrick always ended your sessions with this, knowing it generally was the thing to send you deep into subspace. He had gotten pretty good at it through your time together, knowing the perfect amount of pressure to apply and for how long. As Patrick's hand constricted your breath, you mentally counted to five. He let his hand off and asked you for a colour. Responding green each time he asked. He finally did his last repetition as you went nonverbal, feeling the familiar floatiness of subspace. It was as if the entire world became background noise, and you barely registered Patrick untieing you and kneading the stiff muscles. In this state, you were putty in his hands, barely present in your own body. Patrick lifted you from the floor and onto the bed, placing you gently onto the bed and under the weighted blanket. He stood up and left the room quickly to grab some water for when you were more conscious, and as he re-entered the room, he dimmed the lights to their lowest setting. He set the water down on the small table next to the bed and kneeled in front of you.

“I’m going to remove your blindfold now. Feel free to keep your eyes closed if you need to.” He soothed, getting a quiet hum of approval in response. He untied the silk from your head, placing it on the ground next to you, and looking back up into you glazed, blissful eyes. His hand came to rest on your cheek as he softly ran his thumb across your cheekbone. Lifting the sheets slightly, you invited him into the bed, and he crawled in next to you. You could hear his heart beating from where your head rested on his chest and his arms surrounded you. Patrick praised you for taking everything so well, showering you in affection and calling you his good girl. He sang softly in the dark room and you drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

When you woke, many hours later, Patrick was still by your side, and although asleep, comforting you even just with his presence. You were much more aware now, and your mouth was very dry so you reached over to get the water he had brought you. You knew that you were extremely lucky to be with him and having someone who you could put so much trust in to take the pain away. You loved him, and he loved you, and as you floated back to sleep, you got the sense that everything would be ok.


End file.
